Won't Go Home Without You
by BelinasEgg
Summary: Sherlock and John have an argument, and this time Sherlock's worried. Mild Slash


**Right then... Just a little idea I had to get down. And my first attempt at slash, though this could be easily interpreted as just friendship (I think). I hope you like it!**

**I kind of based this story on Maroon 5's '_Won't Go Home Without You'_ (hence the title) So you could listen to it while you read. **

**Disclaimer: BBC's owns the characters.**

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><p>Sherlock flung himself onto the sofa. It was ridiculous. Stupid. Only a row. Natural.<p>

But it didn't stop him feeling fear claw at his insides.

It had seemed different this time. The words... They broke something. He'd gone to far. And he knew it, as soon as the accursed words left his lips.

John had frozen, face going pale as death. Then he had left. And Sherlock had been about to beg him not to go. Had been about to apologise. Had been on the point of forcing him to stay. But it had been to late. In a whirl, John was gone.

Leaving an ache.

An ache of shame. Fear, which he didn't want to feel. Worry, which he shouldn't feel. But did anyway. He'd upset John. Really, really upset him.

And he hadn't even said anything nasty. Really. But for some reason, he knew they were bad.

He certainly hadn't said anything disrespectful to John.

But it had been wrong. Especially when he knew for a fact it wasn't true.

When he looked into John's eyes, he knew it wasn't true.

When he looked at his smile, he knew it.

When he felt a smile of his own spring to his lips when John laughed.

Because John was his heart.

But he had said them. He'd lashed out. Wanted to hurt. Because he was hurt, and that was how he coped. But he'd forgotten it was John, and not some imbecile. And now that hurt was even stronger.

If John had appeared, he would have pleaded, apologised, done anything to get him to stay.

And that frightened him.

He'd never allowed anybody to gain this much control over him.

Sherlock thumped the sofa's cushion angrily.

He hadn't said anything bad. Not really.

But he knew he shouldn't have. And he cursed himself for that. He shouldn't worry about a single sentence.

He'd felt his own heart clench when John had turned pale. Saw the grief in John's eyes as he'd turned away.

It had started normally. A normal conversation. Normal for them anyway.

_John entered the flat, storming into the room, and sitting heavily in his chair. Sherlock had looked up from his experiment, taking in all the data_

_"What's that, number five?" he had asked, returning to his experiment._

_"Number fi- Oh. Shut it Sherlock." John had retorted, no real venom in his voice._

_"I don't know why you keep trying." Sherlock had said, not lifting his eyes from the experiment he had been conducting._

_"I don't know why you should care." John had snarled._

_"I don't."_

_"Well that's lovely to know."_

_And Sherlock had heard the hurt in his voice._

_"Be reasonable John-"_

_"Shut up! Can't you just keep your nose out of my business for once? Can't you keep your bloody deductions to yourself?" he had shouted, rising from the chair._

_And Sherlock had felt something bitter bite into his chest. John. Who had always admired his deductions... John, who had always been his friend..._

_He turned quietly away._

_"Oh Sherlock. I'm sorry." John had groaned._

_But it had been to late for that._

_"Don't apologise. I couldn't care less what you think of my deductions. After all, we are merely flatmates." Sherlock had bit out, looking up in the hopes of seeing a slight amount of hurt pass over his... friend's face._

_But he's realised the moment he looked into John's eyes, it had gone to far._

He groaned. The more he thought about it, the worse it seemed. Sherlock lay, motionless, straining his ears for any noise that would show John was back. But three hours passed, and nobody arrived. And Sherlock began to get really worried. It was seven o'clock in the evening when he rolled into action.

He jumped to his feet, pulled a pair of shoes on, and dashed down the stairs, not bothering to grab his coat or scarf. He wrenched the door open, and felt the cold air hit him like a bus. But he ignored it. He ran onto the streets, and pausing for a moment.

Obviously John wouldn't be at his ex-girlfriends, and probably not the pub. Sherlock dashed off, running across the road, and ignored the horn's blaring angrily at him. For once in his life, he wasn't sure if he was going to be right.

He entered Regent's park at full tilt, but slowed immediately, feeling his breath jar painfully with the cold air. It only took a matter of seconds to spot a huddled figure on a bench. He slowly, fearfully, walked over.

John didn't move when Sherlock sat carefully beside him. Sherlock watched his painfully still friend, wondering if he'd made the wrong decision in coming out. What could he say? There was no point pretending nothing had happened.

"I'm so sorry John." he said, the words cracking with a mix of fear and cold.

That mix was making his shiver violently, in only a thin shirt, the icy wind was going straight through him.

"You're only saying that so I come back." said John dully.

Sherlock considered. He might have, a while ago. But something had changed. Now he _needed_ John to come back.

"I'm not."

John slowly turned his head to face him. It was set, hard, unfeeling.

"I mean nothing to you. Remember?"

Sherlock swallowed. His next actions would make or break his friendship.

"You mean everything to me." he said carefully, and leaned in to gently brush his wind chaffed lips against John's.

It was a risk. If it failed, everything was lost. If it succeeded, he was saved.

He drew back, and regarded John's confused blue eyes. The few seconds that followed seemed to last aeons.

"Oh Sherlock." John groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Sherlock watched him nervously. At least he hadn't been punched in the face.

"You must be freezing. Let's go home, and talk about... that." said John eventually.

John helped him to his feet, and they stood together for a moment.

"Not good?" asked Sherlock, seeing John face was still creased in thought.

John sighed.

"We'll see." he said.

Relief flooded through Sherlock. He was forgiven. He was saved.

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><p><strong>There! I'm pretty pleased, on the whole. Any review is welcomed with a huge amount of gratitude, so if you've got a spare moment, please drop me one! <strong>


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